TLDR; I’m going to Ireland for the summer. I won’t be getting any type of income during this time frame and I don’t have enough to help with my bills. Any small amounts would do wonders to helping me sustain myself. Please and thank you!
Because I feel fucking beautiful and free of my fucking shackles and I want to post shit of me– because I deserve the moon and everything in between and nothing less than.
Hi, hello. I’m Blue. Some of you know me really fucking well and others don’t at all. I’ve probably only posted a couple of sad woe-fucking me posts since my life went to hell back in November, but let me be completely transparent with you:
My 10-year relationship with my best friend and partner ended abruptly and fucking awfully. Not only that, but removing those disgusting rose-tinted glasses gave me a new prescription I was in desperate need of.
I was abused. I was physically, sexually, verbally and emotionally abused for the last 10 years of my life with my ex-boyfriend. He gaslit me every chance he got and when we argued I was made to feel like a fucking idiot. When I no longer wanted to fuck him because my body aversely reacted to his touch because how could someone you love beat the ever loving shit out of you and expect you to not be repulsed by such an action— he sought the comfort of a naive and dumb teenage girl that he could now manipulate and control. I was chided for being quiet and was used as a physical punching bag when he played games for the first 3 years of our relationship. That only stopped when he cracked my scalp open and threatened to kill himself when I made the decision to leave. I didn’t. That pattern of behavior is his norm: he threatened to do the exact same thing when I came home the next day after he cheated on me and I told him he would “have to learn to live without me”… I did not leave, because I’m a naive idiot who thought a narcissist would change his behaviors. Not a fat chance in fucking hell.
Obviously that wasn’t a completely consistent pattern but pretty frequent for it to be a norm for me. And I was okay with that being what my life was. That was the love I “thought” I deserved– NO. Behavior like that is not o-fucking-kay… EVER. I will be the first to say, I was a victim, but I am a survivor and I will never let another man lay his hands on me, talk down to me, make me feel less than what I am or give me an ultimatum of him or nothing at all. I deserve more than what I got out of the relationship. And you know what? It was a blessing in disguise and I’m better for it now. Why? Because I am no longer under the subtle guise of control where I couldn’t talk to people. I am no longer being forcefully coerced into relenting to his badgering when he wanted to fuck when I didn’t want to. Made to feel bad about the things I enjoyed like RP and TWD. Made to feel like a god damned pennied out whore or belittled for the tiniest petty things. Hearing him bang out a teenage girl in the room next door to me spoke volumes about the person HE is and the person SHE is and the levels of RESPECT they did not have for me… as a person but also as that little cunt’s BOSS. Yeah, fucked the boss’ boyfriend, smart move.
I realize that I am more than the sum of my flaws. I know I’m not perfect, but god damn was I close to fucking “wifey” material as it could get with the level of “beck-and-call” bullshit I had to endure. I in essence lived two lives, I focused more on him than myself and I forgot about who Blue was. I still do not know who I am, but I know now that I am better for it now– all the shit I endured. I will not settle for the familiar mediocrity that was my life.
Being able to be OPEN about WHY I can write Daryl so well is because I know what he’s been through. I understand why he is the way he is and how he is with his relationships because I’ve been in his shoes for so fucking long it’s ingrained into my being. I’ve been writing Daryl for the last 6 years as a coping mechanism for the shit I’ve endured and it makes sense why some people find my variant of him so intimidating– because it’s fucking realistic. That’s not me being “elitist”– I’m simply speaking facts here. I find that now I can come BACK to him because I don’t need to COPE on my own anymore because I’m growing… just like he is. We’re learning to not be so alone anymore.
I am living on my own– in an apartment with my cat. I still have my health and my car. I’m almost done with school– Fall semester here we go. I’ll be going to Galway, Ireland for the Summer for Photojournalism Study Abroad and I’m going to keep seeing this new guy that makes me feel great about myself. No conditions to his affections.
Just being me. And learning to love me and know that I am ENOUGH.
Again, I am Blue. I am Daryl’s mun and it’s nice to finally meet you.
NANCY | & JONATHAN:
“ you … want me to stay? ” while she finds herself having to ASK , she knows it’s what he means, it’s what he wants. a question meant to state the obvious that between them didn’t always seem to be. doubts && fears, she hated those, yet they ignited the flame just the same.
it was that UNCERTAINTY that made it all exciting in the first place. just as the brush of his hand caused her heart to hammer, stilled just outside the door with him so suddenly at her side. though trembling, her hand would reach for his free, the tips of her fingers gently intertwining with his.
“ why won’t you just- … ” her eyes flicker down and then back up, focusing on his features, studying his expression. why won’t you just … she’s unsure how to finish her question, certain things are obvious from her end of the spectrum, not so much on his. it’s that same fear of crushing rejection, a blow to the heart. why wouldn’t he just say what he feels … but what comes out – “ why don’t you want me to go? ”
HIS BREATH HITCHED in his throat and for a moment, Jonathan couldn’t breathe. His heart jack-hammered within his chest, RATTLING within its cage as his eardrums POUNDED with each beat as he felt the warmth of her fingers intertwining with his own at the gesture. Absently his head slowly nodded in agreement to her question– unsure if he was even capable of trying to form the correct words themselves. But he was sure that he wanted her to stay there with him.
For a moment the silence was DEAFENING as their fingers stilled in place, his hand still grazing along the soft apple of her cheek. Again, he was getting LOST and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to function should she question him again. That fluttering feeling like the gentle beat of a thousand butterflies within his belly made him nauseous, but it was that familiar FLEETING feeling he was most accustomed to when she was around. It was a measure of safety that she was near.
Working his jaw a little back and forth, trying to find the RIGHT words to say, Jonathan awkwardly bit at his lip, tongue darting to lick at his chapped lips. He swallowed hard on that ANXIETY pill swelling within his throat. “I want you to stay,” he mumbled trying to maintain what bit of MOXIE he still had from the bit of liquor earlier that day in their celebratory revelations. “I care about you Nancy… I have for a while now.”
@wheelerisms
NANCY | & jonathan:
she’s FRUSTRATED. it’s evident. her frustration comes from a place of pain,of heartache. she’s not saying things either, out of buried fear. she CARES, it’s why the idea of REJECTION makes her ill. seeds of doubt furthered in their time apart, she didn’t bank on what it would be like to finally be around him again, she didn’t bank on things bouncing right back into place. the realization they had makes her UNEASY makes her want to PUSH away.
it makes her harsher than intended. “ because YOU stopped talking to me first. i’d see you in the hallway and you’d just … look away. like you were WAITING for something to happen again with me && steve. i waited for you. what’d you expect me to do? wait forever? ”
ITS LIKE A SLAP, almost crippling to his psyche to hear her question his motive for ignoring her in the halls. But when she asks that final question, Jonathan doesn’t have anything to tell her. Maybe he was waiting for her. But how was he to know that she was waiting on himself, too? A perpetually vicious cycle of waiting and wondering. Jonathan wanted to laugh, a mirthful one, but he kept his lips pursed. The internal turmoil he was dealing with was still only surface deep as he bit at his bottom lip trying to work the nerve to answer her.
“I don’t know Nancy. Maybe? I just didn’t want to impose.” He begins, chuffing a little. “It’s not like I could go up to you and say, ‘hey, remember me? We fought a huge fucking monster and went on a crazy adventure. Wanna go out with me?’ It doesn’t work like that.” In that moment, Jonathan realizes what’s come slipping out of his mouth and he somewhat whirls about trying to hide the blush of embarrassment from staining his cheeks.
“Forget it. It’s not like that would work anyway.”
@wheelerisms
Jean-Paul Sartre (via wordsnquotes)
ZACH | & JONATHAN:
a gentle descent of beat-up sneakers against smooth cement, zach’s pace slowing the moment he stepped close enough to notice jon’s air of unease. maybe he’d come on a little too strong. maybe he did nothing more than spook the dude. either way, zach took note and slowed his roll. he came in peace, after all. the last thing he needed was jonathan thinking he was some overzealous loser. not when zach so desperately needed a friend at their damn penitentiary of a high school.
his next offering of peace came in the style of a gentle finger point, drawing jon’s attention back to the box of records he’d been flipping through just a moment ago. as soon as the new kid’s attention had turned, both nervous hands returned to the straps of backpack. ❛ the clash is killer. my big brother, adam, he introduced me to all that stuff when we were kids. the ramones, the clash, nirvana, floyd. totally saved my ass from growin’ up on the garbage folks listen to nowadays. ❜ his goofy, friendly smile gave way to a soft chuckle before a nervous tongue quickly darted across drying lips. ❛ hey, uh — you got a player to put those things in? maybe it’ll, ya know, give us some inspiration for whatever the hell we’re supposed to be researchin’ today. ❜
JONATHAN HAD ONLY spoken with this classmate a small handful of times before being partnered up with him for their powerpoint research project due at the end of the month. Being the new kid on the block didn’t make anything easier upon his arrival to school. Everyone belonged to a clique and already knew everyone. It was very much like Hawkins, except it was more apparent that he didn’t belong. At the least, he could count his lucky stars that the gossip of what happened back in Hawkins remained there-- temporarily. Soon his history would get drudged back up again and it would be another means of him being outcast amongst his peers.
Removed from his anxieties, Jonathan perked up when Zach moved a little closer and began rattling off bands that he was familiar with-- notably a few that Jonathan had been riffling through. “I was looking to play something while we worked. I mean, we can take the box and work from there.” He suggested returning to about face back towards the record box. “For the project, I figure we can do something on maybe the Peloponnesian War. We just went over Greek history-- could be something interesting.”
Jonathan shrugs a little, working his hands to support the bottom of the box as he hefts it into his arms. “Wanna follow me inside? We can get working in my room.” He suggests, beginning to make his way over towards the garage door leading into the laundry room.
zach | & JONATHAN:
school projects always seemed to come with their own cloud of embarrassment for zach. high school was tough on the kid. unlike the trust fund babies with their fancy clothes, cars that came free of charge, and bottomless allowances, zach lived and worked in a part of atlanta most of those folks would probably never see. school projects meant hanging with spoiled brats who didn’t give a damn that it took him two hours by public transit just to go sit with their ungrateful asses for an assignment neither of them gave a damn about. high school was the pits, but just one more year and it would all be over.
the trip out of the city was longer than what he was used to. most of the kids lived in the suburbs, sat in their easily accessible cul de sacs not far from the school itself. jonathan, on the other hand, lived nearly on the other side of town, tucked away in a forest of trees like some nightmarish fairytale he could remember reading as a kid. he stepped from his taxi with a face that somehow blended confusion and delight. like he’d just won the damn lottery as far as project partners could go. long fingers gripped at the frayed strap of his backpack, hiking it up his shoulder as gray eyes fell on the awkward kid rummaging around inside his garage.
❛ —- hey. ❜ the greeting came as more of an announcement of his arrival than a friendly exchanging of words, though his smile was as genuine as they came. he practically wore his relief and excitement on his sleeve. new kid could hang. ❛ cool place ya got out here. that a box’a records? old school. ❜
JONATHAN SUCKED IN A shuddering sigh, eyes still puffy from the small cry he just had. They never found the body. He remembered Chief Hopper and the forlorn note his cadence held when after months of looking there was still no singular piece of evidence on the whereabouts of his younger brother-- Will’s body was gone. There was no trace of his whereabouts. The bicycle had been left forgotten in the woods long after Will was reported missing. Every hound and officer in the county failed to pick up any trace that Will had been in the woods after his disappearance. The thought of never seeing his brother again made his stomach lurch, insides twisting up in knots as he jabbed his fingers deep into the edges of one of the cardboard boxes
Shutting his eyes, Jonathan tried counting his breaths. His therapist suggested he try deep-breathing exercises to relax with the sudden welling of anxiety attacks he was experiencing. When his breathing regulated, the Byers boy returned to searching for the marked box of records. It was several long excruciating minutes before he finally came across the box with the word “records” scrawled on its side.
The box was relatively light as he hefted the box atop the work bench against the wall of the garage. As his fingers gently thumbed through the vast array of records, he hadn’t noticed his research partner come walking up the driveway. His head jerked in the direction of the greeting and he stepped away a little, almost perturbed by the sudden appearance of Zach. Jonathan was taken aback by the aloof nature of his partner as he came waltzing into the garage, taking note of the records. “Oh yeah, I collect them. Err, I did, I guess.” He answered, stuffing his hands awkwardly into his pockets.
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Favorite character meme - Jonathan Byers (Stranger Things) - [½] colors: Black
for too LONG or too HARD,
you C O R R U P T it. ‘
indie. sel. nick clark from ftwd.
F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (via wordsnquotes)
DARYL | & jonathan:
daryl listens, really listens, to what jon has to say. he feels it float through his soul, hitting every tender point of tension from his past and bringing it all back to life. setting the empty bottles down on the counter, daryl turns and looks at jonathan, chewing his lip as he attempts to string together the words he wants to say.
❛ there was a girl with us, ❜ daryl begins, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. ❛ a while back. i didn’t think she was strong enough… didn’t think she’d survive an hour on the outside without help. thought she was just a stupid kid who didn’t know what the hell she was talkin’ about. she proved me wrong. she was strong. stronger than me. ❜
he pauses for a long moment, sparing a glance up at jonathan. he knows the kid will get what he’s saying: he just hopes it gives him a little faith, a little push to start him out of this slump. daryl can’t explain why, but he almost feels responsible for him, like a little brother, or something. idly, he wonders if this is what merle felt for him. ❛ i can help you look. ❜
JONATHAN HEARS WHAT the hunter is saying, knows what it is he is trying to convey, but he’s not listening-- not really. That girl probably had a burgeoning support network that being stuck out here was likely cake once she got the hang of it. But for Will-- he was just too soft. This world, Jonathan knew, would eat him whole and spit him back out. Taking another drink of his beer, he sets the bottle back on the table watching as several carbonation bubbles fizzled up from the bottom, nestling in the froth along the surface.
“You’re the strongest person I know... besides my Mom. She could be REALLY scary when she was upset.” He begins, eyes still fixed on the moving carbonation bubbles and the sweat beading along the sides of the neck bottle. “I appreciate the offer, but we got lost back in Indiana. I couldn’t ask that of you-- even if I wanted to.”
Averting his attention back towards one of the windows, Jonathan sighs deeply, leaning back into the couch and settles against the cushions. Abruptly he reaches forward and grabs the drink and tries again to get comfortable. “If they’re out there, I just hope they’re safe. That’s all.”
NANCY | & jonathan:
she’s FRUSTRATED. it’s evident. her frustration comes from a place of pain,of heartache. she’s not saying things either, out of buried fear. she CARES, it’s why the idea of REJECTION makes her ill. seeds of doubt furthered in their time apart, she didn’t bank on what it would be like to finally be around him again, she didn’t bank on things bouncing right back into place. the realization they had makes her UNEASY makes her want to PUSH away.
it makes her harsher than intended. “ because YOU stopped talking to me first. i’d see you in the hallway and you’d just … look away. like you were WAITING for something to happen again with me && steve. i waited for you. what’d you expect me to do? wait forever? ”
ITS LIKE A SLAP, almost crippling to his psyche to hear her question his motive for ignoring her in the halls. But when she asks that final question, Jonathan doesn’t have anything to tell her. Maybe he was waiting for her. But how was he to know that she was waiting on himself, too? A perpetually vicious cycle of waiting and wondering. Jonathan wanted to laugh, a mirthful one, but he kept his lips pursed. The internal turmoil he was dealing with was still only surface deep as he bit at his bottom lip trying to work the nerve to answer her.
“I don’t know Nancy. Maybe? I just didn’t want to impose.” He begins, chuffing a little. “It’s not like I could go up to you and say, ‘hey, remember me? We fought a huge fucking monster and went on a crazy adventure. Wanna go out with me?’ It doesn’t work like that.” In that moment, Jonathan realizes what’s come slipping out of his mouth and he somewhat whirls about trying to hide the blush of embarrassment from staining his cheeks.
“Forget it. It’s not like that would work anyway.”
@bigspot | & jonathan:
THE GARAGE DOOR WAS OPEN while Jonathan shifted over some of the boxes that had yet to be unpacked. Mostly the lot of it belonged to Will. Jonathan’s lips pressed thin into a grimace before continuing on with his rummaging about. A box of his vinyl records were stuffed somewhere within the crammed confinements of the garage, but also he was waiting on his classmate to arrive so they could begin working on their research project for a history class.
There was still time before Zach was to arrive and though Jonathan still had a ton of records organized on a bookcase in his somewhat empty room, he was in desperate need for the ones that he and his younger brother would listen to on occasion together. The nerve struck deep and he had to stop a moment, bent over, shoulders clenched as he sniffled a little. They Byers boy did his best to ignore the loneliness of being without his younger sibling. They had been peas in a pod and now that they were hundreds and hundreds of miles away from Hawkins, Jonathan wasn’t even sure if he’d ever see his brother again.
Swiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand, Jonathan tried to straighten himself out so that he would be presentable to his classmate.
@fiierlis
he had wanted to take the edge off so focusing wouldn’t feel like a damn burden and he could stop shaking like a leaf. who could survive with withdraws wrecking them to the point they wanted to curl up and die? what nick hadn’t counted on was being spotted as he popped the pills into his mouth and crunched them up like candy, body whipping around until he’s faced the source of the voice. “don’t,” nick warns in a near whisper. “don’t act like you know me well enough to give a damn about my well-being.”
the concern from jonathan angers him for some reason and he doesn’t know why. actually, he doesn’t know why he’s not being smacked upside the head and yelled at for doing something wrong. how dare this person fucking care about an unsteady junkie still popping pills while the world falls into shambles around them? nick can’t leave the room. no, instead he lingers because some teeny weensy part of him is curious about the boy. “–it’s to help with the…with my uh…issues.” he stammers, waving his hands about as if it’ll help him process his words better. “shouldn’t you be asleep? why aren’t you asleep? go to sleep.”
JONATHAN WASN’T SURE what to expect when he approached Nick and whether he should be prepared for an unexpected surprise from the other teen. He had been on his way back to bed from using the bathroom when he heard some rustling in the room down the hall and nosed his way inside with his knife brandished. A time before Nick had arrived there had been a couple, one of whom was bit and during the night the woman turned and took out several of their group members. Sounds that went bump in the night never did seem to bode well given the current atmosphere of their grueling circumstance.
When he sees it’s just Nick, the Byers boy returns the knife back to its sheath at his hip. His concern grows exponentially when he studies the scene he’s stumbled upon. “I’m not judging, Nick. I don’t care what you need the pills for.” He states, calmly trying to maintain his stoicism, swallowing down hard on the lump working its way up his gullet. “I’m just looking out for you-- that’s all. If we don’t take care of each other-- we’re fucked.” Jonathan gives a simple shrug of his shoulders completely ignoring that Nick had asked him a question and then proceeded to urge him to just leave altogether.
NOTE: I can tell when people don’t read my rules. :)
NANCY | & JONATHAN:
“ B U L L S H I T. it’s not nothing. ” she scoffs under her breath. for just once she wants him to not act like she’s entirely stupid. like she can’t read him standing there, eyes averted foreignly anytime she tries to catch them. it only makes her further annoyed. it only makes all of this all the more awkward.
“ you’re too scared to be upfront with me. i don’t- ” a sigh, deep, eyes closed. “ i guess i just have to wonder why you’re even here. ”
IT’S HARD FOR Jonathan to answer Nancy when she’s calling him out on his own lie so abruptly. Chewing at the inside of his cheek, the Byers boy has to ponder the same question himself-- why was he even there with her to begin with? Was it in part because he felt obligated to help Nancy for her own closure with what happened to Barb? Or was it partially due to the fact that his own brother had never been the same since he returned from The Upside-Down? Whatever the case was, Jonathan wasn’t being open with Nancy about anything he was feeling.
“I don’t like confrontation. But I guess no one really does.” He returned, licking at his lips before pressing on. “Why didn’t you try talking to me? I stayed away because you were with Steve... I didn’t want to impose... I didn’t have that right.”
